


Heart of the Ocean

by Whedonista93



Series: Heart of the Ocean [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Pirates of the Caribbean (Movies)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whedonista93/pseuds/Whedonista93
Summary: In which the Man Out of Time falls into the middle of a pirate story.(Yeah, summary sucks - give it a shot anyway?)





	1. 1735

**Author's Note:**

> So, I wrote this before Dead Men Tell No Tales was released, and it's just been sitting on my drive. Finally polished it up and decided to post it.
> 
> As always, no idea how I ever wrote anything before I met my dear aggiepuff -I blame her for at least 75% of my plot bunnies.

“This is just… unsanitary.” Jack shuddered.

Elizabeth all but growled at him. “Says the man who only bathes when forcibly tossed into the bloody ocean.”

Jack waved a dismissive hand. “Entirely different matter, luv. And besides that… A welp born on a ship…”

“ _You_ were born on a ship.”

“Wh-”

“Teague told me.”

“Bloody bastard… Aye, I was born on a ship. But _this_ ship! Lizzie…”

Will raised an eyebrow from his place at Elizabeth’s shoulders, “You have a problem with my ship, Jack?”

“‘Course not, mate. The _Dutchman_ is a fine ship. No _Pearl_ , of course… But there is that whole curse business.”

“Da curse will not ‘arm dis chil’.” A new voice interjected.

All three pirates heads snapped around to see Tia Dalma.

Elizabeth gasped as another contraction hit.

Will gripped her shoulders tightly, but didn't look away from the goddess in front of them. “Calypso, to what do we owe the honor?”

“Ye ‘ave honored da curse past when ye ‘ad to. Ye could have left my service near a year ago, William Turner, yet ye stay. Why?”

Will didn't hesitate. “Part of the ship, part of the crew. The _Dutchman_ is in my blood. I did not choose the duty, but I have accepted it, for as long as the seas are ours to sail.”

Calypso nodded regally. “‘Dis chil’ shall carry my blessing upon her. I am de ocean, but she shall be its heart. So long as de tides ebb, de heart shall beat.”


	2. 1750

The ship was in flames, most of the crew dead around them. Noira cradled Liam’s head in her lap, one hand desperately trying and failing to staunch the bleeding from his chest, the other trying to keep blood from his head wound from dripping into his eyes. The remaining crew formed a protective circle around them, steadfast despite being so woefully outnumbered. Past the smoke, past the armada around them, she could just make out the sails of her mother’s ship.

“Jack.” Noira’s voice was anything but steady.

Kohl-lined eyes looked down at her. 

She nodded off the bow of the ship, “Go.”

“Now lass-”

“Go, damn ye to the Locker! Take them and go!”

“Your mum’ll have my hide if I leave you.”

“Jack!”

“Say I do leave you and the welp bleedin’ out by your lonesomes… What do ye think is going to happen?”

Noira’s eyes flashed in time with the lightning. “I'm going to end this.”

Jack eyed her speculatively before finally nodding. “Don’t die.”

Noira grinned darkly. “Me, die? On the sea? You well know that the sea cannot claim my life as it can yours. Let them try to kill me upon the waves and I shall stain the waters with their blood.” Her teeth flash savagely in the harsh light. “Tell mum to hang about. Father should be arriving shortly. Now, overboard with you, before I toss the lot of you.”

The waves rose with her threat.

Jack nodded once, swiftly, before pushing Gibbs, who grabbed Pintel and Ragetti by the collars, toward the rail.

“You lot heard the lass, off to King Lizzie with you!” Liam waved a weak fist.

The few remaining jumped ship.

 

The soldiers surrounding them stared in shock as the crew went overboard, leaving only an unarmed girl and a dying man. Noira could see the thoughts flash across their faces,  _ Surely even pirates had more honor than that… _

 

Liam let his hand fall over the one Noira had pressing down over his chest.

Noira smiled down at him, the rain not quite hiding her tears. “Liam Turner, do you fear death?”

Liam choked out a bitter laugh and squeezed her hand lightly. Noira let the ocean carry her call. None of the armada survived the combined wrath of the ferryman and the heart. The King gleefully burned anything remaining until only ash floated upon the waves.


	3. 1767

“Hector… Don't do this.” Noira already sounded resigned.

“Ye do have my apologies, lass, but…” Barbossa genuinely sounded remorseful. 

Noira screamed and the seas raged as the ritual bound her to the ice.

 

Noira spent her first few days on the ice in a daze of pain and confusion. Gradually, she became aware of movement around her in the water. She struggled to focus on the creatures. When she finally managed to open her eyes, another woman stared back at her. She gasped and scuttled back only to be pushed back toward the center of the ice by another set of hands. Wide-eyed, she gasped; she was surrounded. Mermaids floated around her little island, all eyeing her curiously.

Finally, one spoke. “The sea stopped singing.”

The mermaid was nearly as pale as the ice they were surrounded by, but with hair as black as ink streaked through with silver like the stars and eyes as blue as the ocean.

“I am sorry. I would make it start again if I could.”

“We believe you.”

Noira inclined her head. “Thank you.”

“I am called Astra.”

“Noira.”

The mermaid flashed a grin. “We know.”

“Please do not take offense, but… Why are you here?”

“We wish the sea to sing again. We will not speak to humans for you, but anything else we may offer is yours. We will give you what strength we can. We will be your eyes and your ears.”


	4. Time Long Past

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title is from the poem "Time Long Past" by Percy Bysshe Shelley. Full poem is posted at the end of the chapter.

Over the decades, the mermaids brought her news and helped her keep track of time.

 

In the early 1800’s: “Men are building boats of metal, they do not need wind or oars to sail. They poison the waters.”

 

In the mid 1800’s: “Men build machines that trek across the land.”

 

In the late 1800’s: “The Continentals are fighting amongst themselves. It is brutally and viciously bloody.”

 

In the early 1900’s: “Horrific storms across the lands and seas.”

                               “A war grander than any seen before.”

                               “The Chinese empire has fallen.”

 

In the early-mid 1900’s: “Your witty Jack runs rum where it is forbidden by laws of man.”

 

In the mid 1900’s: “Another war of the world powers.”

 

So much disaster, so many wars. But creation, too. They bring her books and clothes sometimes, from wrecks. Fashion and ideals change so oddly…

In return, Noira would reach out and make the bit of the sea around her little island sing. It was worth the strain it caused to see the mermaids dance and play through the water, singing along with the ocean.

 

1944:

Noira wasn't quite sure what the contraption was - a plane of some kind, she thought - that had crashed near her little island of ice, but she had seen the determination on the face of the man who put it there, and she has seen the explosion of ice and water and smoke that followed its descent beneath the water. Yet she could sense the man - still very much alive below the ice.

 

“He is a soldier.” Astra offers quietly. “He lives in spite of the wreckage. Shall we bring him to you?”

 

She closed her eyes, took a breath, cleared her mind, and reached into the depths of the sea.

 

She came back to herself gasping for air. Astra had mostly pulled herself up out of the water and was cradling Noira’s head on her fin, looking down worriedly.

 

Noira shook her head fiercely. “Leave him. His body cannot sustain him out of the ocean. Not here. Let him be.”

Astra cocked her head to the side. “Why do you care?”

“I spoke to him… he is a good man. There are so few left in the world; we cannot afford to risk even one.”

 

Mere hours later the bow of a familiar ship broke through the icy waters and, looking back later, Noira decided shock was the only reason she didn’t burst into tears out of pure relief. Between one blink and the next, Liam was standing in front of her, shock as evident on his features as she felt within herself.

“Noira?” He began to reach toward her, then aborted the motion, as if worried what he might find if he followed through.

Noira stepped directly into his still outstretched arms and buried her face in his shoulder. Her voice was cracked, rasping and broken as the sobs began. “Liam.”

He wrapped his arms around her tightly.

“We thought you were… How… Why… I… Noira.”

Noira sobbed all that much harder and buried her face deeper into his shoulder.

Finally, when Noira calmed enough, she spoke. “Barbossa. A ritual to bind me to the land. Liam, I cannot touch the sea. I cannot even sail aboard a ship.”

Liam was silent for a moment, then he grinned. “Then let us cheat a curse.”

“Have you gone mad?”

“Nay. Remember the stories Jack told of Davy Jones?”

Noira gasped. “Buckets of seawater!”

“Or a hacked out chunk of of ice until we can get you to land elsewhere.”

 

“Father!” Noira leaned far enough off her block of ice to throw her arms around Will’s neck.

“Hello my dear.” Will clasped her tightly.

“Can you keep the ice frozen until we can get you to your mother?”

Noira hesitated momentarily, assessing what access she had to her power. “Aye. I can hold it.”

“We’ll be on our way momentarily. Duty calls.” Will’s eyes focused on the water beyond where her little island of ice used to be.

Noira jerked forward as far as she could, grabbing Will’s shoulder. “No!”

The crew around them froze, but Will just turned to her curiously.

She reached down and grasped his hands. “He is neither dead nor dying.”

“Nor is he quite living.”

“He is not yours to take.”

Will held her eyes for a long moment. “Very well.” He turned to the crew. “With the wind and above the waves, lads. Find our King.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like the ghost of a dear friend dead  
> Is Time long past.  
> A tone which is now forever fled,  
> A hope which is now forever past,  
> A love so sweet it could not last,  
> Was Time long past.
> 
> There were sweet dreams in the night  
> Of Time long past:  
> And, was it sadness or delight,  
> Each day a shadow onward cast  
> Which made us wish it yet might last--  
> That Time long past.
> 
> There is regret, almost remorse,  
> For Time long past.  
> 'Tis like a child's belovèd corse  
> A father watches, till at last  
> Beauty is like remembrance, cast  
> From Time long past.


	5. 2010

 

“I wish you wouldn't strain yourself so, my dear.” Elizabeth laid her hand over Noira’s sweating cheek.

Noira grimaced. “Tell me you wouldn't do the same if it were da.”

Elizabeth’s brow creased. “Your feelings for this undead soldier are that true?”

Noira’s smile was wan. “Would I do this to myself if they weren’t?”

 

 


	6. 2012

Noira woke with a start and ran to her window, as if wishful thinking would allow her to see far enough to see her former prison. She didn't need to see to know - he was out, he was awake, he was  _ alive _ .

 

Where Astra was all light and dark, her daughter Selene was pure moonlight, all whites and silvers. Noira missed Astra dearly, but the trip to the Arctic was simply too taxing. Selene resided with a different village, in the Atlantic, and had been Noira’s main contact with the mermaids since her relocation to the United States. 

Noira risks the extra tax on her power reserves to send a call out before she even leaves her apartment. Selene is waiting for her under the pier. 

“The man I have guarded.” Noira starts, without so much as a hello, too desperate to be apologetic.

“Meet me again in three days at this time.”

 

Three days later, Noira was waiting beneath the pier hours before she was due. Selene looked amused and downright gleeful. “Your soldier no longer graces mothers waters, nor any others we have scoured.”

Her theory confirmed, Noira sunk to her knees, relief evident. 

Selene glanced up and down the beach before sighing and dragging herself from the water. She knelt in front of Noira on wobbling knees and lifted the woman’s chin with dripping fingers. “My friend?”

Noira’s eyes flashed. “Find me Hector Barbossa. No one has to speak to him. Find him. And if there  _ are _ any willing to bring him to me...”

Selene nodded. “I will see it done.”


	7. Man Out of Time

“When was the last time you slept?” Natasha quirked an eyebrow at Steve.

Steve ducked his head and continued pounding on the heavy bag in front of him. “I sleep.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I can sleep when I’m dead.” It sounded sounded like a weak attempt at levity even in his own ears.

“What’s up with you, Cap?” She asked, almost gently.

Steve just shook his head as he threw a right hook that finally busted the abused bag. He stopped, breathing hard, and rested his head against the bag, a hand grasping either side of it to steady the swinging. “It was easier, when I was under the ice… not having to worry about the world falling down around me.”

“Wasn’t it lonely?”

“No.”

 

_ “‘Ello, luv.” A feminine voice drifted through the water. _

_ “This is a dream.” _

_ “Perhaps.” _

_ Steve didn’t realize he’d spoken the thought until he heard her response. He liked her voice. “I crashed the plane.” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “Why?” _

_ “You tell me.” _

_ “No… I know why I crashed the plane. I mean why am I not dead… am I dead?” _

_ “Fate is not finished with you yet. Sleep, luv.” _

 

_ “Hello again.” _

_ “Your voice… it sounds strange.” _

_ “Certainly know how to talk to a lady, don’t you, luv?” _

_ Steve flinched.  _ At least she sounds amused... _ “Sorry. Never have been great with the dames. That was always more Bucky’s thing…” He wasn’t even ashamed when his voice cracked on Bucky’s name. _

_ “Bucky?” The voice asked gently. _

_ “My best friend. He… he fell.” _

_ She seemed to understand the unspoken statement. “I’m sorry.” _

 

_ He could feel her presence, but she hadn’t said anything yet. _

_ “Thank you.” He took the initiative.  _

_ “For what?” She asked quietly. _

_ “Not trying to tell me it would be okay… when I told you about Buck.” _

_ He could almost hear a sad smile in her voice, “It’s never okay, to lose something you care about that much.” _

_ “You say that like you’ve experienced it.” _

_ “Yes.” _

_ “I’m sorry.” _

 

_ “You can open your eyes, you know, luv.” She sounded faintly amused. _

_ “You can call me something other than ‘luv’.” _

_ “Mayhap I will should you give me something else.” _

_ “Steve.” he answered. _

_ “Steve.” She repeated warmly. “Why don’t you open your eyes?” _

_ “I hadn’t considered I could, honestly.” _

_ “Why not try?” _

_ “Maybe later.” _

 

_ The first time Steve did open his eyes, his fingers itched for a paintbrush in a way they hadn’t since before the war. _

_ Gray eyes - like storm clouds - sparkled back at him, framed by dark blonde curls interwoven with green glass and various colored beads. He’d never thought of it before, but as she smiled at him, he thought she might be what the ocean looked like if it were a person. _

 

_ “What’s your name?” Steve asked suddenly. _

_ “Noira.” _

_ “That’s... different.” _

_ She quirked an eyebrow at him. _

_ Steve blushed. “That came out wrong. I like it. It’s just… different.” _

_ “It means ‘black’.” She smirked, mischief sparkling in her eyes. _

_ “Not making it any less different.” Steve drawled. _

_ “My middle name is Pearl.” _

_ “‘Black Pearl’?” _

_ “I was named after a ship.” _

 

_ Steve wasn’t sure which of them set the scenes for their dream meetings, but this time they were lounging on a beach, among the roots of an old tree, watching the waves roll in and out. _

_ “Tell me about the ship.” _

_ She smiled fondly. “It was a pirate ship. And it was the fastest ship in the Caribbean.” _

 

“Capscicle! You look like shit.”

“Thanks, Tony.”

“Seriously, though… and take it from someone who knows the dark side of sleep deprivation.”

“I’m fine.”

“What do you have against sleep anyway?”

“It’s lonely.” Steve answered.

Tony’s double-take alerted Steve to the fact that he’d spoken aloud. “Are you telling me the 90-year old virgin wants a bed partner?”

Steve glared, unimpressed.

Tony cringed, ever so slightly, “Sorry. Being serious. Sleep is lonely, but 70 years in the ice was okay? Were you even semi-conscious in the ice? How much do you remember?”

“Yes... no... it’s complicated. Yes, I dreamt. I remember… not enough, but still too much.”

 

“What about Judy in accounting?”

“I thought we were past this Nat.”

“Not even remotely. Hunting down a brainwashed assassin is no excuse to put your social life on hold.”

“What social life?”

“Exactly the problem. Diane in R&D?”

“No.”

“I’m starting to think you have a secret girlfriend. It’s the only viable excuse for turning down every. single. person. I. suggest.” Nat punctuated each word with a bullet to a HYDRA agents head.

 

_ “I was supposed to take her dancing.” _

_ Noira looked up from the picture on the dash of the plane. _

_ “I don’t know how to dance.” _

_ “Would you like to learn?” _

 

_ “You’re quiet.” _

_ Noira shook her head, cleared her thoughts, “Sorry.” _

_ “What’s on your mind?” _

_ “Something is coming.” _

_ “Something like what?” _

_ “I’m not sure yet, but I don’t think I’m going to like it.” _

 

_ “How long has it been?” _

_ “Not long enough.” _

 

_ Noira stood at the rail of a ship, the wind sweeping through her hair. She looked so at peace, such a part of her surroundings, that he almost questioned if she was real. _

_ Steve cocked his head at her. “What are you?” _

_ “Shouldn’t you ask  _ who _ I am?” _

_ “After all this time, I feel like I know the answer to that one.” _

_ She nodded. “Fair.” _

_ “So?” _

_ She observed him silently for a moment. “My mother is the Pirate King…” _

 

_ “I was right.” _

_ Steve jumped; he hadn’t realized she was there. _

_ “About what?” _

_ “I don’t like it.” _

_ “Like what?” _

_ “What’s coming.” _

 

_ “Time to wake up, luv.” _

_ “When I do… will you be there?” _

_ She gave him a sad smile. “‘fraid not. I can’t…It is a long story, but physically I am bound to the land. If I were not,I would have pulled you from the sea long ago.” _

_ “Am I… am I going to lose you?” Steve stared at his feet. _

_ He didn’t see her shake her head. _

_ She bent to gently kiss the top of his head. “I’ll find you.” _

A baseball game he’d been to months ago, before the war, played on the radio.

 

It had taken barely a matter of hours for Steve to realize how entirely in the dark Noira had left him in regard to the progression of society - and time. He trusted she had her reasons, but he couldn’t help feeling a bit like a fish out of water in this new world. When she didn’t reappear in his dreams, he couldn’t help but wonder if his subconscious had fabricated her. Regardless, he took to running the shoreline more often than not.


	8. Dance With Me

 

Noira watched helplessly as aliens invade New York with Steve at the forefront of the defending force. She was on a plane back to New York within hours of the battle’s end - it was times such as these that she dearly loved her mother's foresight, money was never an object, and grounded airlines did not affect privately owned jets and airstrips.

 

Much to Noira’s surprise, a familiar face met her on the runway.

“Jack!” Noira threw herself at the man, unashamed. 

Jack flicked her hair as he set her back on her feet. “Were it not for the gold upon yer head, ye’d be the very spitting image of your mother in her glory days. Well… you’re both golden-haired, o’ course, but yer more yellow gold and yer mum is kinda rose gold-”

“Jack!” Noira laughed. “Now, I know you are most certainly not suggesting my mother is not in her glory days now.”

Jack looked aghast. “I would never!”

“I ought to think not.”

“So, what’s this I hear about ye wanting a shot at the Avengers?” Jack tucked her arm into his as he set off toward a sleek black convertible.

“Bloody hell, don’t say it like that!” Noira swatted his arm, laughing.

Jack just grinned cheekily.

“I need to check on him… I’m afraid I left him rather in the dark while he was stuck in the ocean…”

“Ah, the soldier, then.”

Noira drew to a halt in shock. “I never -”

“Lizzie was worried, luv.”

 

Steve missed Noira. He knew that, admitted it to himself freely, and would admit it to anyone else if he could tell anyone else about her without being committed to an asylum. After so many tales of her adventures, he more than half expected her to show up in the middle of the Chituri invasion, so, of course, she didn’t show up until a month later, at a party on the roof of the newly dubbed Avengers Tower. 

She was dancing - spinning carelessly around the dance floor - with dreadlocked man who wouldn’t have been out of place in one of her pirate stories. Steve had spent enough time with Tony over the last months to recognize that the man’s suit was expensive, but looked purposefully rumpled. Noira, in stark contrast, was done up to perfection - dark gray sandals, tied more than halfway up her calves, a green dress that matched the glass in her hair and spun around her knees as she twirled across the dance floor, and her hair in a loose updo, curls falling free left and right. Steve could not have possibly cared less that he was staring like an idiot. 

“Friend of yours?” Nat’s voice startled him.

“Something like.” Steve answered without tearing his eyes from Noira - if he was being honest with himself, he was terrified he would lose her again if she so much as left his line of sight for even a fraction of a second.

The song ended and Noira looked up to meet his eyes as if she’d known he was there all along - she probably had. She whispered to her companion, who turned enough to squint suspiciously at Steve. Noira whacked his arm and he scuttled off, making a direct line for Tony. Noira moved toward Steve, eyes never leaving his.

When she stood right in front of him, practically underneath him for how close she was, she smiled up at him gently. “‘Ello, luv.”

Steve laughed, loud and bright, and hauled her into his arms - she went willingly. Long moments later, when reality started seeping back in, Steve pulled back ever so slightly.

“Took you long enough.”

Noira buried her face against his chest. “I know. I’m sorry.”

He squeezed her shoulders tightly. “You’re here now.”

“Aye.”

“Dance with me?”

“Thought you didn’t dance.” Steve jerked in surprise at Natasha’s voice - he had forgotten she was there.

He grinned at the assassin unrepentantly. “Pretty dame taught me how a while back.”   
  


“Capscicle!” Tony barged his way into Steve’s apartment early the next morning, still in his tux from the night before. “Where’s that doohickey I gave you last week, I had a thought, no, I had an epiphany, a revelation! I need it. I can make it better. I can make the damn thing perfect!” Never ceasing the flow of words, Tony made his way through the apartment, toward the bedroom, knowing that was where Steve kept most components of his uniform. He was frozen in the door to Steve’s bedroom before Steve could pull the coffee cup away from his lips.

“Uh… Steve?”

“Yes, Tony?” Steve tried, and mostly failed, to keep the amusement out of his voice.

“There’s a girl in your bed.”

“Yes, Tony.”

“There’s a naked girl in your bed.”

“Very observant.” Steve remarked wryly.

“Did you… no. You’re Captain Virtue. America’s Golden Boy. You didn’t. You couldn’t have. You-”

“Tony?”

Tony finally turned and looked at Steve, eyes widening at the sight of the super soldier in nothing but boxers, hair mussed.

“Be a champ and close the door before you wake her up, would you?”

Tony didn’t close the door, but did exit the apartment, still muttering under his breath about 90-year-old virgins.

 

Noira stepped out in nothing but Steve’s t-shirt, stretching her arms over her head. “Is that coffee I smell?”

Steve’s eyes roamed down her figure before he smiled and nodded, pulling another cup from the cabinet. She rose up on her toes to kiss him as she passed.

“Worth the wait?” She asked over the rim of her coffee cup a few moments later.

Steve scoffed. “You asking me if I’m bitter about waiting to make love to you in real life instead of some dream world?” 

He set his cup down, took hers and set it aside, and placed a hand on each side of her waist, lifting her effortlessly until they were face to face. “Not even a little bit.”

Noira wrapped her legs around his waist and he moved one hand to her hair as he leaned in to kiss her properly.

She sighed when they had to come up for air.

Steve rested his forehead against hers. “You can’t stay, can you?”

She shook her head gently against his. “I’m still… limited. I have to find a way to fix myself. But I’ll be back. I’ll  _ always _ come back.”

“I know.”


	9. Sparrow Nest

Noira stole one of Steve’s button up shirts and a canvas belt to fashion a casual dress and donned her sandals from the previous night before following Steve, now properly dressed in jeans and tshirt (if a tshirt that tight could possibly be called proper,  _ not  _ that Noira was complaining), down to the Avengers common area.

Jack, inexplicably lounging on one of the couches in last night's suit - sans jacket - took in Noira’s attire and loose limbs with a lecherous grin. “That’s my girl.”

Noira threw a pillow at his head. “Don’t be crass, Jack.”

Jack shrugs and grins, unrepentant as ever. “You’re the one that spent the night deflowering the Continent’s favorite Virgin.”

Noira could  _ hear _ the capital “V”.

Tony came careening out of the kitchen area, coffee sloshing dangerously. “I told you! I told you all! ‘Cap’s got a naked chick in his bed.’ But did any of you listen to me? Noooo. And old man, how many times do I have to tell you that no one has called the United States ‘the Continent’ in  _ centuries _ .”

Jack gave a dismissive grunt and wave. “Barely 2 centuries.” He sat up again. “And really, lad, ye shouldn’t be surprised at no one believing a word out of yer mouth, ye are the fruit of my loins, after all. And no one ever believes us when we tell the truth.”

By the window, Clint spewed his coffee. Everyone else stared.

Jack froze. “What did I say?”

Steve answered, slowly. “You sure don’t look like Howard Stark.”

Jack squinted his eyes, mentally calculating the conversation. Noira started calculating exactly how drunk he still was, and exactly how much alcohol he would have had to have to reach that point - one thing about immortality, one’s alcohol tolerance grew exponentially, and Jack’s had never been anything to scoff at in the first place. She scanned the room and stopped on the big blonde eyeing her rather speculatively. Ah. Asgardian mead it was, then. Noira smirked at him, then turned back to Jack.

“Howard Stark was a lech. Bloody brilliant to be certain, but a right ass. Little ashamed to be responsible for him, to be honest… and it takes a bloody well lot to shame me on anything. The welp here, though,” he made a vague gesture toward Tony, “him I’ll claim.”

Noira squeezed Steve’s hand. “Coffee.”

Steve looked down at her curiously.

“Bring me the whole bloody pot.”

Steve looked bewildered, but went. Noira went and perched on the coffee table in front of Jack and yanked him into a more upright position. Steve appeared at her shoulder, coffee pot in hand. 

Noira took it and handed it to Jack. “Drink it.”

Jack cocked his head curiously.

“I have questions. And I am  _ not _ going to ask them while you are so spectacularly smashed. Your drunken logic gives me headaches. Now drink the damn coffee.”

For once in his life, Jack did as he was told, practically chugging the whole pot. He was clear-eyed enough to satisfy Noira.

“‘Fruit of your loins’?” she repeated.

Jack grinned and reclined a bit. “Aye.”

Tony plopped down next to him. “He was dad’s dad. Not around much when I was a kid, but no one was. At least with Jack, it wasn’t his fault.”

Jack, to Noira’s shock, looked truly repentant, and sounded more than a little bitter. “Howard - his mum named him, who names a bloody child  _ Howard _ ? Almost as bad as  _ Hector _ \-  Howard didn’t want me anywhere near his bloody perfect little family. Didn’t like that his science couldn’t explain dear old da.”

“‘Course, Jack here snuck in anyway.”

Before she could really check it, Noira snapped out and slapped Jack. “Jack Sparrow! You had a family all this time. And you never bloody well thought to tell us?!”

Jack rubbed his face ruefully. “I told the whole lot ‘a ye! Bloody well smashed on the  _ Dutchman _ ... “ Jack trailed off, clearly realizing the implications.

Noira smiled, an utterly bitter, brittle thing. “The  _ Dutchman _ , where I cannot go. That the one you’re talking about?”

Jack actually had the grace to look sheepish.

“I didn’t know anyone could actually make Jack feel bad…” Tony looked curious.

Noira laughed shakily, letting the tension break. “You should see him when mum gets after him.”

Steve sunk down into an armchair, pulling Noira into his lap as he went.

Nat raised an eyebrow from the chair opposite of them. “You could have just confirmed the secret girlfriend theory.”

Steve sighed. “It’s not quite that simple.”

“It never is.”


	10. Bound

Noira found Thor on the roof.

“Ye look at me as if ye do not know what to make of me, son of Odin.” Noira observed quietly.

Thor turned toward her. “Perhaps because I do not.”

She cocked her head. “Why?”

“You are more than you appear, yet less as well. I see the power under your skin, but it eludes my senses at the same time.”

“It is bound.”

Thor looked confused.

“My power is bound. A curse… centuries ago.”

“Is there no way to lift it?”

Noira shrugged. “If I could find the bastard who bound me, aye.”

“Your paramour has a team that would gladly aid you.”

Noira smiled blandly. “If they could, aye.”

“You seem leery.”

“Your brother could not help me, I fail to see where mere mortals can.”

“My broth -  _ you _ were the one that summoned him… near a century ago now.”

“Roughly seven decades, aye.”   
“He was… amused by you. And beyond frustrated that you had asked something of him he could not succeed at.”

“He was rather frustrated.” Noira chuckled.

“I believe you frustrate him as a whole. But you interested him as well… enough that he did not kill you. You are a puzzle even he could not solve, and I find I cannot solve you anymore than he could.”


	11. Living Legends

Months later, Jack found her in a cabin on the coast of Maine.

He unstopped a bottle of scotch and sniffed at it disdainfully. “Where’s the bloody rum?”

Noira raised a brow and pointed with her pencil to the cabinet beneath the liquor counter. “Can I help you with something, Jack?”

“Mmm, not likely. Just figure it’ll be safer if I’m drunk before I tell you what I am here for.”

“Jack…” Noira growled in warning.

He waved the hand not holding a bottle. “Right, right… so, someone took your soldier.” 

Noira froze and the storm outside snapped in time with her pencil. “What?”

Jack eyed the storm out the window warily. “Don’t kill the messenger, luv. Tony just figured I’d know where to find you.”

“You’re suggesting I kill Tony, then.”

“No. I’m suggesting you find your jolly soldier boy and and kill the unfortunate bastard as took him.”

 

Noira stood on the beach, as close to the waves as she dared. Selene strode out if the waves, no concern for the storm (or her nudity). Noira could see heads bobbing beyond her in the waves. 

“Mermaids?! Bloody…” Jack reverted to incoherent mumbling behind Noira.

“M’lady?” Selene questioned.

“My soldier. Find him.”

Selene inclined her head. “By your leave.”

Noira nodded once, sharply. “Go.” She turned around. “Jack, get me to New York.”

 

“I’ve never seen a storm like this in New York.” Natasha stared out the window.

“There is a power in it.” Thor agreed gravely, quietly for once.

Nat cocked her head curiously.

To her surprise, Thor smirked. “Someone has angered the ocean.”

Both turned at the sound of the elevator dinging. 

Noira stepped out, dripping wet and eyes flashing. Jack sauntered casually behind her.

“Where is he?” Noira demanded.

“We don’t fucking know. If we did, do you really think we’d still be sitting on our asses in upstate New York?” Tony growled from where he was working frantically over a holopad. 

“Best figure it out quick, lad. Lady Luck’ll be favoring us somethin’ grand if Pearl here can hold her power longer’n a full day without killin’ herself.”

“The last place we tracked him to was somewhere in the Caribbean. A weird little uninhabited cluster of islands.” He threw an image up on the hollow.

Lightning snapped in time with Noira’s eyes and she let out a stream of curses in enough languages to impress even Natasha. “How fast can you get me there?”

“We don’t even know exactly where he is!”

“There.” Noira pointed to a blank space amidst the cluster of islands.

“There’s  _ nothing _ there.”

“There is, though.” Jack intervened. “An island… lost to history, but it’s there. And if that’s where he’s been taken… whoever this is isn’t after your Avengers.”

“They’re after me.” Noira finished Jack’s thought. “How fast can you get me there?”

“Quinjet can get there in -”

“I need faster than that.”

Tony shrugged. “I can fly you in the suit. Maybe even put you in a spare.”

Thor looked at her gravely. “Would you survive flying with me?”

Noira nodded immediately. “Aye.”

“Then do what you must to ready yourself, my lady.”

Noira spun on her heel and stalked out of the room.

Everyone looked at Thor in shock.

For once, he took the hint. “She is… she is not human… not entirely.”

“What does that have to do with storms and her flying with you?” Tony cocked his head.

“There are legends of immortals on Midgard… many have no basis, but one… are you familiar with the myths of the ferryman?”

“Which one?” Natasha asked wryly.

“An immortal captain sails on an immortal ship, carries the souls claimed by the sea to the other side.”

“Ooookaay…” Clint drawled.

“The ferryman is said to have been married to the woman King of the pirates, she who defied Death at its very door so many times, Death surrendered her life to her, to keep as long as she would have it. As long as the ferryman sails, so shall the King.”

“Blegh. Disgusting.” Jack muttered. He was ignored.

“Fascinating lore, there, prince of the draperies, but do you have a point?” Tony chimed back in.

“Legend has it they had two children. A son, who died in battle and now sails with the ferryman, and a daughter, born blessed after a curse and promise honored, born the daughter of Calypso’s servant, born the very Heart of the Ocean.”

Silence.

“Heart of the Ocean?” Bruce eventually repeated quietly.

“You said there was power in the storm…” Natasha recalled.

“So… let me see if I’ve got this right…” Tony said, “Capscicle’s girlfriend is an immortal who, what, controls the ocean?”

“That is a gross under simplification of the standing of things, but yes, I believe it to be true.” Thor agreed.

  
  


On the roof, Noira clasped Thor’s neck tightly. “Don’t drop me in the ocean.”

Thor squeezed her reassuringly with one arm around her waist, and raised Mjolnir with the other. 

 

Steve woke slowly, painfully. The last thing he remembered was a sense of being hemmed in and just needing to run. He’d ended up at the harbor. He was staring out over the ocean, then… nothing. Slowly, his surroundings bled into his consciousness. He was sitting. The ground was wet. He was tied, no, he was  _ chained _ to a… pillar? There were voices; accented, at least one Spanish, the rest… British, maybe? But all their accents were muted, dulled, like… like Noira’s. Steve opened his eyes slowly. There were men scattered around the room. Five people, four men and a woman, stood on a dias at the center of the… were they in a  _ cave _ ? The whole thing looked like a scene out of one of Noira’s pirate stories.

Suddenly, the woman looked his way. “He’s awake.”

All eyes turned his direction.

He cleared his throat. “Ya know, I used to think that whoever thought taking one of the Avengers to get to the rest would be the most unintelligent person I would ever have the displeasure of meeting. I was wrong. Taking  _ anyone _ to get to Noira is way worse.”

One of the men on the dias - tall and slim with an eyepatch - shuffled uncomfortably. “It ain’t what it looks like.”

The man closest to him - and the pair of them stirred something in Steve’s memory, but he couldn’t quite grasp it - short, a little rounder and with oddly long hair for what little of it he had, nodded in agreement. “We’re really tryin’ to help her… and ourselves.”

“ _ Riiiight _ .” Steve drawled. “Good luck with that.”

Another of the men, one with a wooden leg, of all things, shrugged. “I hear she be lookin’ for me anyway. Unlikely she’ll be killin’ me right off. I’ve got somethin’ she wants, ya see. Ye was just the easiest way to get her attention.”

Steve resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “If you know she’s looking for you, why not just call her? Write a letter? Show up on her doorstep? If you know she’s with me you obviously know how to find her.”

The woman shrugged this time. “We still need a bargaining chip. She is going to assume Hector acted on his own. Under that assumption, she could kill him hoping her curse would lift and then never actually get the answers she seeks. With something, someone, she cares about even more than her own freedom on the line… at least she might hold off long enough to listen.”

Thunder crashed and outside, and lightning flashed so brightly that they could see it even in the depths of the cave.

The last man, tall and dark with odd markings around his eyes, flinched. “She should not be able to do that.”

Hector smirked. “I may not have bound her  _ quite _ as tightly as I was instructed. She still won’t be able to hold it long.”

The roof of the cavern crashed in, and when the dust and debris mostly cleared the air, Noira and Thor stood in the middle of it.

The seas and skies rumbled with Noira’s voice. “Give me one good reason not to kill the lot of you right now.”

“We can free you.” Hector offered.

To Steve’s surprise, Noira’s eyes flicked to the two he had deemed lowest on the power scale - the one with the eyepatch and the balding one - for confirmation. They both nodded.

She turned back to Hector. “Explain.”

Hector stepped forward, only to step back again when lighting flared across the sky. “Did ye really think any self-respectin’ pirate would bind the ocean’s heart of his own free will, lass?”

Noira quirked an eyebrow. “Pirates aren’t exactly known for self-respect.”

He waved a dismissive hand. “What know ye of Davy Jones, lass?”

Noira’s glare and the deafening roar of the sea outside told him all he needed to know. 

“Aye, as I thought. He be not as dead as many had hoped, I’m afraid.”

“Explain.” Noira growled lowly.

“He has me  _ Revenge _ and me sword.” Hector sounded simultaneously ashamed and angry.

Noira started piecing it together in her mind. “And how long has he had them?”

“Since the end of our golden age, lass.”

Understanding dawned on Steve. “Why did he want her bound?”

“Fish-faced bastard is an immortal who is very familiar with holding a grudge for centuries. My family has never really endeared themselves to him.” Noira explained wryly.

“Ran into the lads a while back.” Hector gestured grandly. “This old heart fair sung with joy when they told me ye ‘ad been sprung from that hunk of ice. We set to hatchin’ a plan to free ye altogether.”

Noira glared, unimpressed. “Give me one good reason not to just kill you and get whatever information I need from Pintel and Ragetti. We both know Ragetti is smart enough to figure it out on his own.”

Ragetti preened and Barbossa shuffled nervously.

“What do you want, Hector?”

“Freedom. It's been an age since I sailed without that bastard’s shadow over me. I've spent the last years as trapped as you,  my dear.” Hector bowed at the waist. “And if this humble old pirate gets his own freedom in the process of giving ye yours… well, what be that sayin’ today? Somethin’ about a cherry on top.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

Noira continued glaring. “At least you had the sea.”

“Not as it is meant to be.” He murmured. 

Noira sighed, a sound of long suffering exasperation, but her expression began to soften. “Thor, let Steve loose, would you?”

“Those chains are enchante-” Anjelica’s warning trailed off when the chains shattered under Mjolnir.

The storm outside was just beginning to wane when the rest of the Avengers came crashing through the hole Thor and Noira had left in the ceiling. 

Steve grinned from the post he had taken at Noira’s shoulder. “You guys already missed the action.”

“Awh, come on! I wanted to be able to tell everyone I fought pirates!” Clint whined.

“You might still get your chance.” Steve said.

The storm continued to wane and Noira stumbled, her back catching on Steve’s arm - he deftly wound said arm around her waist and looked down at her worriedly. “Noira?”

She waved at the pirates. “Don’t let them take off,” and waved at the Avengers, “Don’t let them touch the treasure. Cursed.” She rolled her head along his shoulder, nestling her face against his chest. “Gonna pass out now.”

 

Steve caught her as she went limp. “Noira!”

“Barbossa!” A new voice rang from the mouth of the cave.

Steve looked over his shoulder, keeping his body between Noira and the unknown voice. Pirates, these ones still looking like they were still in the midst of their Golden Age, poured into the cave.

The young man at the fore of the group was the one yelling. “Where is my sister?!”

Ah. That's why Steve thought he was familiar. He turned slowly, exposing Noira, still cradled in his arms, to the newcomers. An older man immediately broke off from the group and veered toward Steve, resting a gentle hand across Noira’ s cheek when he reached them. 

The young man took the scene in again before turning a glower on Barbossa. “Hector… if my sister has killed herself over some inane scheme of yours…”

The old man in front of Steve brushed Noira’s hair back from her forehead. “She’s just exhausted herself, lad. At least as much as when we pulled her off the ice.”

The young man's glare intensified. “She almost didn't wake then.”

“She  _ will _ wake up, won't she?” Steve clutched her tighter to his chest.

The young man finally actually looked at Steve. “You're the soldier. The one she wouldn't let us take.”

“He was never ours to take.” The older man said quietly, then louder, toward Steve. “Me name is William Turner. Me son is William Turner, and me grandson is William Turner.”

Steve smiled slightly. “Bootstrap Bill, Will, and Liam, more commonly, right?”

Bootstrap smiled broadly. “Aye, lad. I'd offer me hand, but I'd rather he not drop me grandaughter.”

“Take her somewhere safe.” Liam interrupted. “Don’t let her touch the ocean or set foot on a boat of any kind. We'll keep this lot until she wakes. She knows how to call us when she needs us.”

“You sure that's how you wanna go about this?” Steve questioned.

Liam arched an eyebrow as inquiry.

Steve grinned. “I have a pretty distinct memory of her vowing to send Selene and Astra  _ together  _ to fetch you next time she needed you.”

Liam paled. 

Bootstrap laughed outright. “I warned ye not to needle yer sister, lad. Soldier, get her out of here.”

Steve nodded and joined his team. He looked upward to the quinjet hovering above them and down at the woman in his arms. “Tony?”

Iron Man stepped forward. “Yeah. Give her here. I'll be gentle.”

 

Noira’s eyes swam into focus slowly. The first thing she saw were blue eyes staring down at her. She groaned. “How long was I out?”

Steve grasped her hand. “Eight days.”

Her head snapped up in surprise. “That’s it?!”

Steve jerked back as if slapped. “What do you mean  _ that’s it _ ?! I've been worried sick! We've  _ all _ been worried sick!”

Noira squeezed his hand gently. “Steve… last time I exerted that much power was when my father rescued me from the ice. I didn't wake up for over a month.”

The color drained from Steve's face. 

Bruce cleared his throat from the open doorway. “JARVIS told me you were awake. We put you in Doctor Cho’ s Cradle. As best as we can figure, it healed the physical damage to your body completely, leaving your energy free to… replenish your magic stores. Or something like that. Conjecture, all of that, really, because we have no scientific method for measuring magic…”

Noira smiled. “Thank you.”


	12. Back Where it Started

A week of forced bed rest later, Noira once again stood on the beach under the stars. This time, she was not alone. Nor was Astra. Astra and Selene both strode onto the sand confidently, as if legs were as natural to them as fins. Noira didn’t even hesitate in throwing herself into Selene’s arms.

Selene chuckles as she stepped back and bowed her head, but let the disapproval leak into her tone. “We would not have you come so near the water as to risk harming yourself in such a way again.”

Noira leaned back against Steve, elbowing him in the gut as she went. “Hey Captain Modesty, quit sputtering. It's not like you haven't seen a naked woman before.”

Without even looking, she knew he was blushing scarlet as he muttered into her hair. “Seeing you and seeing two women I've never met before are two entirely different matters.”

Noira rolled her eyes. “Steve, meet Selene and Astra. They're both dear friends. Selene, Astra, this is Steve. Feel free to ignore his old fashioned sensibilities.”

Both women grinned.

“You called, my lady?” Astra prompted.

“Aye. An end to the sea’s silence may be in sight.”

Selene's gaze locked with Noira’s. “The sea will sing again?”

Astra leaned forward eagerly, “What do we have to do?”

“Two things. First, send my father’s ship my way. Astra, be a gem and give my brother a kiss? He deserves a bit of fluster.”

Astra grinned wickedly. “With pleasure.”

“I'll make certain he’s suitably terrified and confused.” Selene promised with a grin of her own.

“My thanks.” Noira beamed.

“And the second?” Selene prompted.

“Find me Davy Jones.”

 

Selene strode back up the beach again just over a week later. “Davy Jones is in a small village just south of Port Royal.”

 

Davy Jones, looking human, walked into the pub and ordered a pint before making his way to the back corner of the bar. 

“A bit poetic, you residing here.” Noira leaned back in her chair at the next table over. “Some sort of irony, I’m sure.”

Jones started and stared at her, wide-eyed. “Miss Turner… well now, I must admit ye to be the last person I expected to see here.”

“Really? Are there truly that many people whose lives you have so utterly destroyed?”

Jone shrugged noncommittally.

Noira let her chair legs thunk to the ground. “You took something from me. I want it back.”

“Hmm… no.” 

Noira chuckled darkly. “It’s rather sweet that you think you have a choice in the matter. I am  _ through _ being only part of myself. I miss the sea. I am going to take my power back, and then I am going to hand you over to some very powerful friends of mine. You see, last time, my dear family made the mistake of leaving you to the mercy of Calypso. And that was just the problem; she cared for you, once, so she had mercy. I will not repeat that oversight.” 

“Ye think ye have more powerful friends than a goddess?”

Noira began methodically cleaning her fingernails with a dagger. “I  _ know _ I do. Heard of Asgard?”

Jones paled, just a bit.

“Thought you might have.” Noira grinned. “The thing about Asgard, is that it has two princes. One is fond of me. And the other… well, the other has a rather severe level of serious spite toward you on a personal level. You seem to have a talent for bringing that out in people. The spiteful one is the more cruel of the two. If you prove to be a hindrance, he’s the one I’ll hand you over to. Should you choose to actually be helpful, well, in that case I’ll hand you over to the one who’s fond of me. He’ll be kinder.”

“I have done naught to offend the royals of Asgard.”

Noira chuckled darkly. “The trickster god of magic could not undo your curse upon me. He took it rather personally. Do not make the mistake of assuming you are more powerful than he. I called upon him ages ago, when he was unfamiliar with our world and its magics. You will not best him twice.”

Jones drained half his pint. 

“I want Blackbeard’s ship. I want the sword. And I want your fucking book.”

“Book?” Jones asked too quickly.

“Yes. Your handy little book of black magic. I’m quite done with it wreaking havoc on my family’s lives.”

“I don-”

“Bloody hell you slimy old bastard! Do  _ not _ try to play coy. I haven’t the patience for it. If I have to call Loki to find the ship, the sword, and that damnable book, his spite toward toward you will grow exponentially, and I will hand you directly to him on the principle of the thing. I  _ know _ you have some sense of self-preservation, Jones. You would not have survived this long without it. Now is the time to use it.”

The silence stretched between them. Finally, Jones heaved a sigh. 

“I’ll give it all to ye, but ye will not be handing me over to some deity.”

“Your other option is the  _ Dutchman _ . And I promise you, no one aboard it is overly fond of you. I’ve heard Asgard is lovely.”

Jones growled and crossed his arms.

“Magic or not, you will not walk away from this place.”

“You sound very confident for a little girl with no magic.”

Noira’s eyes flashed darkly and she smiled, all teeth. “I don’t need my own magic. I have hers,” she pointed to Wanda sitting at the bar, whose eyes flashed red, “and his,” she pointed the the seat directly across from Jones and Loki appeared in a puff of green, “and his,” she pointed out the door and thunder rolled, “and hers, she pointed to the corner directly behind Jones’ shoulder and Calypso’s human form melted forward from the shadows.

“‘Ello, Davy.”

Jones was white as a sheet.

“Long ago, I promised de Turners dat so long as de tides ebbed and flowed, de heart of de ocean would beat. Ye locked de heart in a cage, Davy. Can’t allow dat, ‘m afraid.” She reached forward to caress his cheek and he shivered.

“And if that isn’t enough,” Noira continued cheerily, “the mermaids  _ really _ bloody well hate you. You made the ocean stop singing. They’re just waiting for you to hit open waters. You won’t get more than a mile from shore in any direction.” The thunder outside rumbled again. “And I  _ really _ wouldn’t recommend trying to leave by air. If by some miracle you get past Thor, you’ll never get past Tony and Bruce’s toys.” 

Jones was starting to sweat.

“And just to make sure we’re not leaving anyone out: try to hide on the island and I’ll set two of the world’s finest soldiers, two of its most notorious assassins, and one rather antsy speedster after you. If by some impossible miracle you get past the mermaids, my mother’s entire armada will be after you faster than you can blink. And finally, try to hide in the in between, and my father will be waiting. Any questions?”

Jones managed to gulp down the rest of his beer. “To whom should I deliver your requests?”

Noira smiled brightly. “Wise move. Why deliver when you can lead the way?” She gestured toward the door.


	13. Carmina Oceani

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is Latin - Ocean Sings

Elizabeth bit her lip and glanced at her daughter over the edge of the book in her hands. “This is going to hurt.”

“I know, Mum. Hurt like hell to put it in place and I'm certain it’ll hurt like hell to take it away. Can we bloody well get on with it before Steve realizes where I've buggered off to? He won’t handle me screaming my bloody head off very well.” Noira grimaced.

Elizabeth offered a sympathetic smile. “Right. Barbossa, the sword.”

Hector’s knuckles tightened around the hilt.

“Hector.” Noira all but growled in warning.

He winced. “Right, of course. Your majesty.” He offered the sword, hilt first, to Elizabeth.

Noira braced her feet at the edge of the tide and squared her shoulders as her mother strode into the gentle waves. She was prepared for the excruciating pain as Elizabeth changed and dropped the swords blade into the water, but it still made her scream and stumble. 

“Keep going!” Noira demanded through gritted teeth, wiping blood away from her nose,  when Elizabeth hesitated.

Rain poured from the sky and the waves went from rolling to crashing. And then, just as suddenly as the pain had started, it was gone, replaced by euphoria and a surge of power so strong Noira’s vision whited out and she thought she might lose consciousness. Slowly, Noira came back to herself. She was vaguely aware of her surroundings: the mermaids heads bobbing off the coast, her mother kneeling before her in the water, Hector standing behind her to one side with his sword and the book in hand, and Bucky holding Steve back off her other shoulder. All those things paled in comparison to the return of her awareness of the ocean thrumming through her veins. She took a deep breath and smiled broadly.

Elizabeth’s own smile spread in return. “It worked?”

Noira pushed to her feet. “One way to find out for sure.” She raised her arms and pushed the rain back until the sun broke through as she strode out into the waves until the reached her chest, feeling her power rebloom more and more with each step. She closed raised her arms and laughed in delight when the waves danced under her fingers. She nearly cried when she heard the mermaids voices float across the waves. Astra and Selene swam to her so quickly she didn’t even notice until their arms were around her.

“The ocean sings again!” Astra giggled like the little girl she hadn’t been in a very long time.

“It will never cease again.” Noira promised.

“Your soldier looks anxious.” Selene nodded toward the shore, where Steve was standing knee deep in the waves, eyes on her.

“I supposed I should go see to that.” Noira laughed. “Be dears and tell the men in my family I’ll be around to visit soon?”

“You mean go torment Liam.” Astra quirked an eyebrow.

Noira shrugged.

“Always our pleasure.” Selene assured.

Noira squeezed their shoulders tightly before they dove back beneath the waves and she let the current push her leisurely back to shore. Steve’s eyes never left her.

She stopped less than half an arm length from him and looked up to meet his eyes. “Hello, soldier.”

He reached out to cup her cheek with a soft smile. “There you are.”

Noira smirked. “Was I not here before?”

He shrugged. “Not entirely. You were missing that spark in your eyes that you had in my dreams. I see it now.”

“So what are you gonna do with me now that you’ve got all of me?” Noira asked cheekily.

“Keep you?” Steve asked as he dropped to one knee and pulled a small box from the pocket of his cargos in one smooth move. “Marry me?” He asked, holding up a silver band with a perfect black pearl surrounded by tiny, crystal clear white diamonds.

Noira nodded rapidly and barely gave Steve time to slide the ring onto her finger before she all but tackled him into the water. He took it with good grace, wrapping his arms around her and letting the waves wash over them both as he pulled her into his lap and kissed her soundly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IF interest is expressed - I do have a bit more in this universe.   
> A goofy little epilogue.   
> Lots of of deleted scenes.  
> Even more alternate scenes.  
> Jack and Deadpool meeting.


End file.
